


Reaped to Bear

by whatsanapocalae



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breeding, Cervical Sex, Choking, Crying, Drugging, Mind Break, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Painful Sex, Paralysis, Stomach Bulge, Tentacle Sex, Teratophilia, Trans Male Character, Urethral Play, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting, Watersports, all the way through, ovary sex, womb sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Written for Softiekitten! Leon getting paralysed and his eggs replaced with that of an Ivy Zombie, which leaves him with some strange side effects.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Reaped to Bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Softiekitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softiekitten/gifts).



He thought that, for some reason, that small little bridge in the labs would be safe. It was icy on one side and he'd cleared out all the monsters on the other. He didn't expect anything to be in the tiny greenhouse, didn't even know how something would hide in their. The fact that this thing was apparently made out of vines, growing out of a corpse, made it a bit more understandable. He didn't have to beat himself up for not seeing it. What he could beat himself up for was the fact that he didn't have enough fuel. 

The flame thrower was only enough to burn through the things arm, making the vines writhe in something that he thought was anger, before it sputtered and ran out. The body may have been dead but the plants definitely weren't and they didn't catch on fire, didn't let it spread. 

He cursed, tossing it onto his back and pulling out his pistol. He had that moment of hesitation, the same thought that he had with every single one of these new things that he came across: would bullets even work? 

He didn't get a chance to check as it threw out one of its arms, racing towards him faster than the more human monsters, body flopping forward and vines stretching out. Leon tried pulling back, losing his aim, but those vines wrapped around his arm and pulled him in, pulled him closer, closer to those slick yellowed pustules and that mouth of teeth that went all the way up its face. 

He screamed, dropping his gun to push against the things chest, trying to get it off him, as those teeth dug into his neck, going deep, blood and pain pouring out of him through a dozen gaping holes. He couldn't move, paralyzed by the pain and the knowledge that, if he pulled away he would rip out a chunk of his own neck. 

One of the pustules popped and a thick yellow pollen drifted into the air. It was so close to his face. He held his breath, fought it, until his lungs burned. It just kept holding him, not releasing him until he was forced to gasp. He didn't want to, but he had no choice, he had to inhale, had to breathe it in. 

And it slid through him, into his lungs and making them ragged. He could feel the moment that the pollen affected him, making his muscles heavy and tired, unable to move. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, the only thing keeping him up being the monsters hold on him. Even that wasn't for long as it lay him down, his limbs almost ragdolling around him. He couldn't stop it, couldn't even move a muscle against it. 

It released him from its horrible mouth and he could feel his blood, maybe a bit too thick, dripping down his neck, pooling, warm and tacky, around his head. He couldn't even raise his hand to apply pressure to the wound. If it weren't for how terrified of everything else he was in that moment and how the blood seemed to be coagulating faster than expected he would have been afraid of bleeding out. 

He whined, couldn't tell it to stop, his breathing rough and not enough, he couldn't get his lungs to expand all the way and he couldn't get his jaw to listen to him enough to speak, to scream, not that this thing would understand him anyway. It's head was cocked, looking down at him, and any intelligence that may have once been in this monster, was completely gone. 

It's hands were working his body as it knelt between his legs, patting him, the vines on it squirming into every fold and pocket of his new uniform. Leon was able to muster the strength to bite his lip, trying to distract himself, because no one, nothing, had ever touched him like this. Even his ex hadn't been so intimate as these hands and wriggling tendrils as they pushed and prodded. As disgusting as it was, as sick as he felt, tears pricking at his eyes at just how useless he was, unable to do anything about this molestation, his cunt was beading up with his natural slick.

The creature could smell it, stopped, suddenly, mouth wriggling so that the teeth clicked against each other. It lowered its face to Leon's crotch and he whimpered. There were too many teeth, too much everything. He didn't want that so close to him. He didn't know what it was going to do. The tears started to slip down his temples. It was going to eat him, pussy first, and it would be a slow, agonizing death, he was sure of it. 

A hand left his stomach and went down to his crotch, fondling him, and he could just imagine that it could feel how wet he was through his clothes. He knew that wasn't possible but he was sure all the same. 

The tendrils spread out, under his waistband and he wanted to wriggle away, wanted to push it away, wanted to shoot it in the head. His small shallow breaths were coming as huffs, getting closer to hyperventilation. He could hardly see through the tears sitting on his eyelids, spilling hot on his skin. 

They went down around his thighs and he could feel that they were growing, each vine branching off into a dozen other smaller protrusions to wrap around him, easing under his briefs and exploring his labia. Bile burned at his throat at the unwanted pleasure as those dry growths slid into and around his lips, slipping in and holding each fold gently open. One, tiny one, spiraled around his clit, making it protrude hard, gorged on blood, against it. 

The other tendrils, the ones not molesting him, stretched out, shoving themselves against the fabric of his briefs and tearing through them easily before making it to the bottom of his pants. They were made to be resistant to cuts and tears but this was a terrible push, too much force, and the seams popped, the material breaking away with a terrible ripping sound. He could feel the warm air, hit his exposed skin. He gasped, surprised himself with how he was able to do that, at being exposed, his cheeks turning red with the need to cover himself. 

He couldn't. He couldn't do anything. He could feel and the fact that he was allowed to feel was worrisome, that he was meant to feel everything that was happening to him. He could see too. Could see the growth between the creatures legs, more like a stump than a cock, writhing with little vines over it. 

It wasn't going to kill him. The need to vomit grew, even though he had no way to actually do that. He was choking on it. This thing wasn't going to eat him or kill him, it was going to fuck him and, looking at the shape and thickness of that growth, it was going to hurt. He whined more, tried again, to pull himself away, but his body was heavy and his muscles felt like they were pulled past their limit. 

There was no prep, there was hardly any warning, as the monster forced itself inside of his cunt, making him hiss and shiver, every tear trapped in his eyelashes pouring down his cheeks. It was too big. It burned and scraped at him, there was no part of it that was smooth. He couldn't even clench down to try to force it to stop, to try to keep it out of him. He could only lie there and take it. 

It wasn't just inside of him, it was thrusting, poorly executed, no rhythm, no way to get used to it. He was wet already from being manhandled and he hated that he was thankful for that since, if he wasn't wet with arousal he would be with blood. He was groaning, unable to stop that either, as it wrecked him. Every thrust pushed him against the floor, further away from him gun, made the flame thrower on his back press against his spine painfully. 

The feeling that that wasn't all it wanted made him want to give up, give in. 

It kept stretching his pussy open, the tendrils that were holding it growing and slipping in as the cock pulled out and it was too much, the groan turning int a scream as they pushed him outward. He was certain the sensitive tissues would crack and tear from the girth. The new vines weren't there to pull him taut though, they were pushing in, far deeper than the cock could reach. His sounds were all jarbled together, mixed into a long warbled cry until he had to choke down as much air as he could gather. It didn't do anything, no one was coming for him, it wasn't stopping the monster from shoving more of itself into him. They were pressing against the deepest part of his cunt, right against his cervix and then, pushed in further, into it. 

It felt like being raped by a urinary tract infection. His scream picked up in pitch. His head was clogged with mucous and pain and fog. The vines didn't pull out, they were only thrusting due to the drag of the cock that also pushed into him. Part of him, a distant quiet part, was still able to wonder if he could get pregnant from this and quivered in terror. He could feel them shove against another wall, another hard spot inside of him, and they were growing out, filling his cervix. He didn't know if it was possible for them to push into his womb but that was definitely what they were trying to do. 

His fingers scratched at the floor on either side of him. 

The tendrils were pushing against all of him, wrapping around his loins and crotch, the one around his clit stroking it in a facsimile of intimacy. he could feel a few of the small ones slip enthusiastically into his ass, so slim that they didn't hurt, but more were trying to follow and they were going up and deep, not barred in the way those in his pussy were. He hated how those in his ass actually felt something akin to pleasant, he didn't want to enjoy any of this, but it was hard to think of that with the spreading deep ache in his cunt as the vines kept prodding and wriggling inside of him. 

One thrust, violently, up into his urethra and that agony was more than the inkling pleasure in his ass and clit, making him screech and his toes flex, as it entered him. The burn of something forcing its way into such a small hole distracted him from how the tendrils pushed into his womb and curled wound inside of it. He was feeling too much, pulled in too many directions, he couldn't focus on any one sensation. It all hurt, even the pleasure as it slid deeper, into his intestines, alternating branches pushing and making his organs swell. 

This thing was trying to fill him up, all the way, replace him with itself. 

His head lolled from side to side and he could see his stomach, even through the bulletproof vest, start to proud as the tendrils pressed against his insides, more and more of them shoving into his hole and stretching him, making his ass gape just as much as his weeping cunt. What had started to feel good was now pounding with his heartbeat. 

The ones in his pussy grew further, pressed against the sides of his womb, the thinnest pieces shoving somewhere he couldn't fathom. He didn't know where they were going but the pain as they pushed through and into whatever they were heading, was so intense that his vision went white for a moment, his torso feeling like it was going to split in two as they spread out horizontally. 

The one in his urethra was also trying to grow but the passage was so tight that it couldn't do much and it started to thrust in and out of him in order to force itself deeper. 

His hands were fists, his teeth grit, as the sensation of bile in his throat gave way to something else. A scratch instead of the burning of acids. He coughed, finding it harder to breathe, that there was something in his throat. He could get even less air than before into his battered lungs. 

Something was spreading out inside of his ovaries. That's what it was, they had gone so deep into his body that they had reached his ovaries. And they were still growing. 

No, not growing. 

They were releasing something. He didn't know what it was but it was a slick feeling, making his stomach twist. It wasn't just there, it was everywhere, he could see the fluid bead up on the vines that were growing out of the monster's body and drip, something like sap, and he kicked out a foot to try to do something, anything, to stop it from filling him further. He was finally able to lift his head, to see the amount of growth in his pussy, and the slick didn't hurt. It soothed the bite of agony, made his mind swim with stimulation. The slick in his urethra made it feel nice to be fucked there, and he could feel himself letting go, letting this thing fuck him, start moaning instead of screaming. 

There was a scraping feeling, deep in him, something being sloughed out of his ovaries but he couldn't care about it. Now that the pain was gone, replaced with so much pleasure, he didn't care about any of it. There was a foam, white and bubbling, coming out of his pussy on the pull out, his first thought was that it was cum but he hadn't ejaculated and the slick on the other vines weren't white, it was clear. It took a long while for him to realize what it was and that sparked fear back into him. It was eggs. The tendrils were in his ovaries, scraping away his eggs, replacing them with that slick. 

He thought to fight it, to try once more for his gun, mind racing over whether or not this was how it infected others or if this was how it spread, if it was fertilizing him with its own special type of young. He writhed, feeling too good to actually pull away, and then that itch in his throat grew to be too much. 

The vine pushed out of his throat, out of his open mouth, smaller branches coming out of his nose. He was held still from that alone, as another thrust pushed him over the edge, making him tense through his orgasm. It was more intense than anything he'd given himself but, as it kept filling him with fluid, making him choke, the vine and the fluid filling up his throat, he didn't come down. He hit that peak and stayed there. 

He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He could just twitch in the pulse of orgasm, feeling heat and wet spill out of him, down the tendril in his urethra, as his urine spilled out of him and onto the floor, soaking the remnants of his pants. 

The monster shoved that stumpy cock deeper into him and stayed there as well, pouring its own cum into him. It didn't make a sound as it did, just spilling and spilling and there was slick and deep red syrupy goop dribbling out of Leon's vagina. 

It didn't pull out when it was finished but it was obvious when it was done. The tendrils all started to whither, the body spasming and going still and the one in Leon's throat wilted enough for him to suck in air as if it was coming through a stirring straw as the rest of them coiled up and died in inside of them. It had put in all of its energy into this, into filling Leon with itself, making him into a vessel for its seed. 

He retched the first moment that he could, vomiting the broken and brown remnants of the vine onto the ground along with so much slick. He got himself up on his side and dragged himself away from the creature as it fell apart, his legs still too weak to move, his insides feeling strange and warped. The vine in his ass felt squishy and like it would break, but he yanked out as much of it as he could before taking out the one in his urethra. He dragged himself even further away, watching those pustules burst before pulling the last of the vines out, slowly, carefully, trying not to hurt himself, but even that felt good. He reached out, slid his fingers inside, and fucked himself on three of them, moving that slick and syrupy ejaculate around his insides before he came again with a bit of bark, before the pleasure finally started to subside. 

He was weak and broken but he was, surprisingly, alive. He pulled himself into the corner to collect himself, to push out as much of those fluids as he could, to cough up more of the smaller branches, and heal from that paralyzation. Something was moving inside of him, somewhere, something was growing. It felt good, dropping down and squirming in his womb. 

Everything felt good. 

He shuddered at how good it felt, his mind blocking out the pain before. He pushed himself up onto his feet, swayed, and went back for his pistol. His first thought, with his hand on it, that he should shove the barrel up into himself, that he should cum again but on that cold steel. 

He didn't, fought it, and moved on, but he was still so turned on and every pulse in his body made him want to find his next orgasm.


End file.
